


Ode to Mighty Ducks

by allyouneedissleep



Series: Winterhawk Bingo [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky hates hockey sorry, Getting Together, Hockey, M/M, The Mighty Ducks References, The Sandlot References, tbh Bucky just had a crush on one of the characters, who is also blonde cause..., you do not need to have seen mighty ducks to understand this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyouneedissleep/pseuds/allyouneedissleep
Summary: Bucky for all intents and purposes is decidedlynota hockey fan. He can get behind the idea of it (becausehellohot guys getting into fights is his idea of foreplay), but when it comes to paying attention to the game itself he just gets lost. There are many things Bucky’s into, but sports just ain’t it; they just don’t do it for him. So when it comes to big hockey matches or games or meets or whatever they call them, he doesn’t bother acknowledging them.As far as Bucky is concerned, the only hockey that matters is The Mighty Ducks trilogy. Sure, they’re kids movies and probably glamourize a lot of the sport, and yet, none of that matters to him. The Mighty Ducks are not only a huge part of his childhood but an iconic moment in history.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Series: Winterhawk Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891426
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	Ode to Mighty Ducks

**Author's Note:**

> For Winterhawk Bingo Square: Bucky's Collection of Disaster Blonds

Bucky for all intents and purposes is decidedly _not_ a hockey fan. He can get behind the idea of it (because _hello_ hot guys getting into fights is his idea of foreplay), but when it comes to paying attention to the game itself he just gets lost. There are many things Bucky’s into, but sports just ain’t it; they just don’t do it for him. So when it comes to big hockey matches or games or meets or whatever they call them, he doesn’t bother acknowledging them. 

As far as Bucky is concerned, the only hockey that matters is The Mighty Ducks trilogy. Sure, they’re kids movies and probably glamourize a lot of the sport, and yet, none of that matters to him. The Mighty Ducks are not only a huge part of his childhood but an iconic moment in history. 

Or well, the only thing iconic about it was his hard-on for the guy who played Banks. He may or may not have had a lot to do with Bucky coming to terms with his sexuality, and if he wrote fanfiction of him and Charlie hooking up… well that was neither here nor there. 

\--

When Steve walks into his room with an innocent look on his face, while Bucky’s busy dicking around on his laptop in bed, he’s immediately skeptical. He narrows his eyes in his best friend’s direction and waits for him to spit out the reason he came in there. 

Steve casually drags his fingertips across the books on the shelf across from Bucky’s bed, “so, got any plans tomorrow night?”

“What’s tomorrow? Saturday?” 

Steve nods at him, then turns his head back to the books, “yup, so any plans?”

Bucky tilts his head in question, “pretty sure I’ve got a hot date.”

“Really?” Steve’s voice squeaks out.

“Yup,” Bucky smirks down at his computer screen, “me and Netflix.”

Steve groans, wiping a hand down his face, “don’t do that to me!”

“So what favor are you trying to drag out of me?”

“Okay so,” Steve starts to rush over his words so fast that it takes Bucky a second to realize what he’s saying, “Nat invited me over for a Hockey Party and she said I had to bring a friend, but, well, you’re kind of my only friend I could bring. And before you say I could bring Wanda, yeah obviously I could, but I don’t want Nat to think I’m dating her or anything. Like come on, that’s the worst thing I could do when I’m trying to get Nat to date _me_.” Steve ends his tirade by stabbing a finger into his chest to emphasize just how much he wants Nat to date him.

“I hate hockey.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll owe you forever. I’ll clean the bathroom, and do the dishes for the next three weeks, and I’ll take out the trash for the next two months.”

Bucky rubs his chin, “hmm. Dishes for the next month and a half.”

“Done.”

“Oh, wow,” Bucky laughs, clapping his hands together, “you must be desperate.”

“You have no idea,” Steve shakes his head, sliding over to sit on the end of Bucky’s bed.

“Alright, I’ll go.”

Steve gets up and makes his way toward the door, “thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“BUT,” Bucky practically shouts, “I’m getting drunk as fuck and flirting with the hottest guy there.”

Steve cackles as he makes his way down the hall, “wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bucky shakes his head and refreshes his Twitter feed.

“Oh!” Steve peaks his head back into Bucky’s room, “you have to wear a hockey jersey. It’s a must for getting into the party. I’ll pick you one up on my way home from my jog tomorrow.”

Bucky smacks his hand to his forehead, slipping down in bed, and shoving his laptop next to him. This party better have good alcohol. 

\--

Bucky’s just stepping into his room after showering, when Steve walks in behind him and plops a bag down onto his bed.

“What’s this?” Bucky asks as he starts to dig into the bag. 

He’s just pulling out a black and yellow monstrosity when Steve responds, “it’s your jersey for tonight.”

“Uh, I think the fuck not.”

Steve frowns, “you have to wear a jersey.”

“And I will,” Bucky shrugs, “but if you think I’m wearing yellow, then you’re out of your damn mind. It completely washes me out.”

“The Penguins are a respectable team,” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking afronted at the accusation that he chose Bucky a jersey from a bad team.

“I don’t care if the fucking Pope plays for them. I’m not wearing something that’ll make me look ugly. So thanks,” Bucky shoves the jersey back into the bag, then shoves it into Steve’s chest, “but no thanks.” 

He turns to face his dresser and ignores Steve’s indignant sputtering from the door. He pulls his drawer out so it makes as much noise as possible, and pulls on a white undershirt and a pair of boxers. He hip checks his drawer back into place, and finally turns to look at Steve. “What?” he asks rudely.

Steve huffs, “you have to wear a jersey.”

“Okay,” Bucky says slowly, “and I said I would wear one. But if you think I’m wearing that,” he points his finger at the bag still clutched to Steve’s chest, “then you’re stupider than you look. Now be gone,” he shoos his best friend from his room.

Steve rolls his eyes, “you better have on a jersey and be ready to leave in,” he checks his watch, “forty five minutes.”

Bucky pushes him out of the room so he can finish getting ready. He’s ready within thirty minutes, but doesn’t walk out to the living room until fifty minutes have gone by just to spite Steve. The guy deserves it.

Steve is pacing back and forth in front of the couch when he comes out, “took you long enough.”

Bucky shrugs as he grabs his keys, “better late than never. Ya ready to go?”

Steve rushes past him to the door. As they’re walking down the sidewalk to the nearest subway station, Steve looks him over critically. “Are you really wearing a fucking Mighty Ducks jersey? Like from the movie series?”

Bucky pulls on the bottom of his jersey, “it’s an iconic film series. Besides, it’s the only jersey I own.”

“And I got you a jersey.”

“That I wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

Steve pushes him into the street, “oh fuck off, it’s not that bad.”

“Says you,” Bucky drawls, “the epitome of style.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “whatever Marc Jacobs.”

Bucky pretends to puff out his chest, hopping back onto the sidewalk, “I knew you’d get it.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“And I chose to ignore it.”

They walk down the stairs to the subway and just barely catch the train. Steve stays quiet until they’re about to walk into the party. “Please don’t embarrass me in there,” he begs.

Bucky pats his shoulder weakly, “don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’ll embarrass yourself plenty enough on your own.”

“Thanks,” Steve hisses out between his teeth.

“Anytime, pal.”

\--

Bucky is making his way from the liquor table to the snacks on the kitchen island for the third time, when someone literally falls into the room.

“I’m okay,” a voice shouts weakly from the floor. “What did I miss? Has it started?”

“First period,” Nat shouts back from her spot on the couch.

“Alright, cool,” the guy gives a thumbs up as he drags himself into a sitting position. 

As the guy staggers to his feet, Bucky can’t help but notice that the guy is Hot with a capital H. He’s pushing all of Bucky’s buttons. He’s tall as all heck, broad as shit, and has a vein popping out of his forearm that Bucky wants to _lick_. The guy smiles a quick little thing at him as he stumbles towards the kitchen for a beer, and Bucky swears his breath stutters in his throat. 

“Fuck me,” Bucky lets out under his breath.

“Hey man,” the guy turns his head to face Bucky, “if you’re talking to me, you can’t mumble.” He waves his hand in the direction of his ear, “‘m deaf.”

Bucky chokes on his spit, “uh, I wasn’t talking to you.”

The guy turns a brilliant shade of red, “well this is embarrassing.”

Bucky shrugs, taking a long pull of his beer. He wipes his wrist across his mouth, grabs another beer and heads back out to the living room. He doesn’t actually want to subject himself to watching hockey, but he’ll do anything to get himself out of this awkward conversation with the only person he actually wants to spend time with tonight.

\--

He lasts three minutes. 

\--

Bucky’s just walking out of the bathroom, when he slams into the chest of the hot guy. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” the hot guy smirks down at him.

“I would’ve remembered if I ran into you before,” Bucky frowns thoughtfully.

The guys chuckles, “I meant that we have to stop meeting awkwardly.”

Bucky shrugs, “I don’t think it’s awkward.” He pats the guys left pec, “I actually think it’s quite nice.”

The guy laughs, “if it’s good for you, then who am I to complain. I’m Clint, by the way.”

“Bucky.”

“Well, I’ve missed enough of the game as is. I’ll see you in there?” 

“Sure,” Bucky waves him off. He feels bad for lying, but there is no way in hell he’s going back to watch another second of that shit. He’ll camp out in the kitchen until Clint is ready for another beer.

\--

Bucky’s in the kitchen sitting on the counter, legs swinging back and forth, and singing along to the commercial jingle. He’s just lifted his beer to his lips when Clint walks in and starts laughing. Bucky’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“Um,” Bucky tucks his face down to his chest.

“Thought you were gonna come watch the game with me?” Clint tilts his head at Bucky.

“Yeah, about that,” Bucky looks away, then turns his head back quickly, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Yeah, I fucking hate hockey.”

Clint hides his mouth behind his hands as he shakes from laughter. “I- uh,” Clint clears his throat, “I mean, honestly that explains a lot.”

Bucky shrugs, “you don’t wanna go watch the game?”

“It’s the end of the first period.”

“Uh.”

“It’s the break time.”

“Oh,” Bucky smiles into his beer.

Clint leans on the counter next to him, “so let's do something you’ll find fun instead. What do you do for fun?”

“I like to shoot.”

Clint’s face lights up like the sun on a summer day, “like a bow and arrow?”

Bucky can’t help it but he barks out a laugh, “lol no.”

“You did not just say L-O-L out loud.”

Bucky grins, “sure did. But nah, I meant shooting a rifle.”

Clint’s smile dims, “well either way I bet you have killer aim.” He picks up a bottle cap off the counter, “here challenge me to make a shot.”

Bucky picks up his own cap, “alright, but you gotta challenge me after.”

“Well, duh.”

“Okay then, off the back wall and into Sam’s cup.”

Clint arches an eyebrow, “but Sam’s holding the drink at an angle towards his face.”

“Oh, so you’re giving up already?”

Clint throws the cap up and catches it again, “nah.” 

He throws the cap and it lands with a little splash right as Sam picks the cup up to his lips. He spits the cap back into his cup, “Barnes!”

Bucky holds his hands up, cap still clutched in his fingers, “wasn’t me.” He turns to Clint barely suppressing his laugh, “that was so hot,” he swallows hard, “alright my turn.”

\--

The hockey game is ten minutes into the second period and Clint is still in the kitchen talking to Bucky. They had to give up the cap throwing when Nat threatened to rip their balls off if they interrupted the game anymore than they already had. 

Clint picks at Bucky’s shirt sleeve, “so I gotta ask.”

Bucky smirks at Clint from his position on the counter, “yeah?”

“Yeah, so The Mighty Ducks jersey. Is there a reason you’re wearing a Banks one?”

“He was my childhood crush,” Bucky shrugs.

Clint straightens up, “no shit?”

“Yeah,” Bucky tries to act casual, “always had a thing for competent blondes.”

Clint looks across the way at Steve frowning, “oh, I should’ve assumed you were together. I heard he brought you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, waving at where Steve is attempting to talk to Nat. They watch as he goes to put his elbow against the wall and misses. “I said competent.”

“Ya know,” Clint leans back against the counter placing himself on display, “I always had a thing for that one Bash Brother. The one with the dark hair and thick thighs. He was so badass.”

They look at each other both trying to figure out the name. Bucky wiggles against the counter so he can get his phone out of his pocket and do a quick google search of the cast list.

Bucky snaps his fingers together when he gets to the right name, “Dean Portman!”

“Yes!” Clint exclaims, clapping his hands together once, “that’s the one!”

“You know, the actor was actually in the musical Rent.”

Clint’s eyes widen, “no way.”

“Dead ass. Pretty sure he’s like a firefighter or something these days.”

Clint raises an eyebrow, “why do you even know this?”

“Read a buzzfeed article. Anyways, did you also have a thing for Benny the Jet Rodriguez, cause that guy was everyone’s crush.”

Clint laughs, “from The Sandlot? Absolutely. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be him or wanted to be with him. He was so cool.”

“Oh absolutely, I actually asked my Ma to sign me up for baseball after that. I even bought the black on black converse hightops in high school,” Bucky leans his head against the cabinets laughing. “God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

Clint tugs at his sleeve again, “I bet you were so hot in baseball pants.”

Bucky smirks, jumping off of the counter, “hey, wanna get outta here?”

Clint frowns, his eyebrows scrunching adorably on his forehead, “but the game’s still on?”

“Oh, you actually care about this?”

Clint laughs, heading towards the door, “I guess I can just text Nat for the score tonight.”

Bucky links his arm with Clint, “that’s the spirit.” Clint hits his head on the door frame as they leave. Bucky sighs, “you’re a bit of a disaster aren’t you?”

“A tad, but I mean on the bright side, I still convinced you to take me home, so.”

Bucky just shakes his head as he heads down the stairs to the street exit.

\--

Bucky wakes up when he hears a noise from the doorway that sounds suspiciously like “oh shit, fuck”. He can’t tell how long he dozed off for, but it’s still dark outside and the hallway light has been turned off, which means that Steve must have come home at some point. He pushes himself so that he’s sitting up in the bed, the blanket falls so it’s covering his lap, and he picks up his phone to see if he’s got any new messages. Apparently it’s only 1:30 in the morning, so he really hadn’t been sleeping all that long, and he’s got four texts from Steve.

He rolls his eyes as he clicks on the notification and swipes open his home screen. 

**Stevie Rogers:** Did you leave?  
Ok, I’m pretty sure you left  
Just letting you know I’m home. I would come and tell you but I can tell that you’re busy.  
No but seriously you guys are loud af. If you don’t shut up I’m gonna pound on the door.

He can’t help but laugh, because Stevie WOULD pound on the door. Thankfully they must have been finished before he deemed it worthy enough to interrupt. He can only imagine how that would have gone over with Clint. Although knowing the guy, he’d probably find the whole thing hilarious. 

Bucky’s just sending a quick thumbs up to Steve when he hears a shuffling at the door. He looks up to see Clint wearing nothing but his Mighty Ducks jersey and a pair of boxer briefs. 

The phone drops to the bed, and he makes grabby hands at Clint for him to cross the room to join him, “hmm, you look so hot right now. Absolutely fulfilling all of my childhood fantasies.”

Clint saunters towards him, sliding onto the bed, lifting one leg to throw across his body and lowering himself to sit on Bucky’s lap. “Hey,” he presses a light kiss to Bucky’s lips, “before this goes where I hope it’s going,” he reaches to put his hearing aids back in, “I’ve had a really good time tonight and I wouldn’t mind maybe seeing where this goes between us outside of the bedroom.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Bucky smiles, flipping Clint so that he’s hovering overtop of him. “Breakfast in the morning? I wanna take you out.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Clint responds cheekily, leaning in to pull Bucky down into a kiss. 

Bucky pulls back quickly as a thought comes to mind, “but if you think I’m ever watching hockey with you again, you’re outta your damn mind.”

“Not even The Mighty Ducks trilogy?” 

“I guess I can make one exception,” Bucky shrugs nonchalantly, “but honestly you’re even hotter than Banks so it’s not like I even need to watch it anymore. Not that I even find him attractive now that I’m no longer a baby gay.”

Clint laughs so violently that Bucky almost falls out of the bed. “You would make your childhood crush seem awkward.”

Bucky pushes Clint to the floor, “oh hush, you.”


End file.
